


In Sickness & In Health

by SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff



Category: Scott & Bailey
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Face Sitting, Fluff, Lovely Wives Being Lovely, Sickfic, Spanking, smut in ch2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff/pseuds/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff
Summary: Julie is prone to unfixable, un-ignorable migraines when she works herself too hard. Gill's always there to pick up the pieces. That's just a given.
Relationships: Julie Dodson/Gill Murray
Comments: 15
Kudos: 12





	1. In Sickness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlorenceVassy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorenceVassy/gifts).



> My first time writing these two and writing F/F in general so I hope my she/her's don't get confusing. With endless thanks to the lovely FlorenceVassy for getting me onto S&B in general and these two in particular.
> 
> P.S. Desperate for a Gill/Julie 3rd person email RP. Hit me up unashamedtumblraddict@gmail.com if you're interested!

Everyone who values the continuation of their life and their career knows not to bother Dodson when she has a migraine. She'd never name it as such, of course, it's simply a "headache" or occasionally a "bad head" if it's really poundingly awful. But they're work-stopping, day-ending headaches that she simply can't shift when one comes on, no matter what piece of juicy information comes across her desk in the hope of tantalising her back to the land of the living. So everyone knows they're serious. Now and then she takes an afternoon off to go to the hospital, dragged metaphorically kicking and screaming from her office by the missus to reckon with the realities of poor health. Poor Julie. There's an awful atmosphere in the office when she's unwell, the lack of energy and vivacity causing a vacuum that her colleagues get sucked into, swirling around in an eddy of whispered worry until someone comes upon the bright idea of calling Gill. Of course, she's always already on her way. 

* * *

Bad head. Take me home? X   
_Coming._  
_Give me five. Drink something._

* * *

Julie must have gotten at least halfway there, there's a glass of water on her desk that looks fresh enough, but doesn't appear to have been drunk. Gill would check the glass for lipstick marks, but it's dark in here, much darker than their office ever is, given the prevalence of emergency lighting and the fact that nobody ever remembers to turn the Big Light out when they leave, despite the pointed printed signs. Julie's office is much calmer, somehow, despite the sense of urgency that permeates the place, and she's managed to get it pretty much pitch dark today. She's even thrown her jacket over the desk phone to block out the irritatingly persistent blinking red light of un-attended voicemails. "Heya, chick" Gill whispers, her voice very quiet and utterly calm. It's not quite honeyed, her voice, she's never insincere or affected, but it flows through Julie like the bottom sip of a particularly sweet cuppa. Ah. That's better. 

The capacity for human language left Julie a few hours ago, but there's plenty to be said for the inhuman, and she grunts softly in a way that makes Gill smile. She's sprawled out in her office chair, heels abandoned by her desk, not even neatly, one sideways and one on top of some important looking files stacked up on the carpet that's seen better days. Her head's against the back rest, hair unkempt, and Gill suddenly feels as if she's let her down, this over-tall, sensitive, hurting soul in front of her. She's her wife, in every sense that matters, it's her job to keep her kempt and tidy and cared for. To keep her _okay_. A particularly tasty lead on a suspect had wiped her head clear of any thought of Julie, even though she'd looked a little peaky over breakfast. Still, nothing to be done now, no going back, only forwards. 

It's forwards she goes, standing behind Julie's desk chair and brushing her hair out of her face, her small, ever so cold fingers coming to rest pressed against Julie's forehead. Julie had clearly requisitioned a cool pack from the first aid room earlier for the same purpose, Gill spots it weeping and condensing on top of a probably quite vital set of notes, but she doesn't have the heart to say anything. The last thing Julie needs is anything saying, so she just stands there, cold fingers pressed softly against warm, tense skin, until she feels more than sees Julie relax ever so slightly. That's better. Gill leans down slightly then, though she really doesn't have to move much, there are benefits to being 'a little scrap of a woman', as Julie would call her if she was feeing much better. It's easy enough to press soft kisses to Julie's hair, to rest her face atop her head and just inhale the smell of her, warm and clean and _safe_ , now that they're together. She knows she'll be fine, she's the rational one out of the pair of them, but even still - Gill's learnt by now that when it's your wife, rational thinking often lets itself out of the window. 

Speaking of, there's a fairly fresh breeze blowing through from somewhere, making the soft downy hairs stand up on Julie's forearms where she's rolled her shirt sleeves up. Hopefully she remembered to put her cufflinks in her pocket or her bag, and didn't throw them somewhere in the office in whatever temper probably brought on this current indisposition. That's probably one stroke of luck too far to be wishing for, considering the hellish week they've both had. Gill stays put for a good five minutes, feeling Julie pressing her head into her still cold fingers a little, seeking out the respite her poor circulation can give for once, an atonement for the years of cold toes against warm calves under the covers. It takes these long moments of silence before Gill feels she can speak without making everything worse. First, do no harm, and all that. Eventually it seems safe, when Julie stops chasing the chilled pressure of Gills fingers quite so insistently and her tense shoulders drop just a little. "Have you taken your tablets?" Gill goes for, reasoning that if she's got to ration her words she might as well start with the most important. Julie shakes her head, just a little, only perceptible because Gill's fingers are still attached to the front of it. "Ran out" she mutters, her voice husky and dry from lack of use, a rarity that Gill can't ever treasure. She loves hearing her talk, our Jules, ever the one to supply a quick comeback or a witty anecdote. "Silly goose" Gill replies with just enough tenderness, regretfully removing her hands to reach into her inner pocket of her jacket and pull out a pack of triptans. 

Julie is nothing like a goose, really, Gill thinks as she pops one out, handing it to her and sliding the glass of water towards her too with an unspoken air of authority. She's got all the poise and grace of a swan, but without the frantically paddling legs that come as part and parcel of the usual metaphor. Jules is just as calm and even-handed at home, in bed, in the kitchen as she is at work, which is why its so difficult to see her laid up like this. Julie is more like a moorhen with an attitude, bobbing away through the currents of the river like it's nothing, actually, since you asked. Every now and then her absolute inability to recognise the need for sustained self care leaves her entangled in some weeds, but hey - that's what people have wives for. Gill is beginning to consider whether moorhens are ducks, and if ducks are one of those homosexual species, when Julie shifts in her chair and it snaps her back to the facts at hand. "Thanks" Julie murmurs, and Gill's about to come back with an "anything for you, slap" when she realises it really doesn't need saying. It's always already implied. 

It's about another half hour before the medication kicks in and Julie stops feeling quite so much like her brain is trying to force its way out of her eyes and her ears in equal measure. "Ready, Freddie?" Gill asks quietly, eventually, and she manages both a nod and a "yep" in response, which feels award-worthy at this point. "I'll get your stuff" Gill murmurs, pressing another kiss to Julie's hair before moving quietly, purposefully around the office and collecting everything she needs. She's pliable when she's poorly, and doesn't put up a fuss when Gill manouevres her into her jacket and then her coat. "It's cold out" Gill reasons, which seems to serve to remind herself to shut the window too. It _is_ cold out, when they make it there, Gill's never wrong, and Julie's grateful when they finally reach the car and Gill settles her safely in the passenger seat. The fact that Julie hasn't protested, or perhaps the fact that she's graduated to being able to actually open her eyes and speak, earns her a careful proper kiss from Gill before she turns the key and they head home. It lingers on her lips all the way home, almost enough to distract her from her headache. She's so lucky to have her. 

"Carry me in, then" Julie manages to tease when they pull into the drive, and the look Gill shoots her before rolling her eyes is far from pitying. "You've perfectly functional legs, missus, get up and get in" Gill insists, though she does carry all of Julies stuff inside without a word of protest. It's the lack of babying from Gill that Julie appreciates most, the way she manages to care so greatly without being cloying or suffocating. It _is_ just a headache, a bad one, an evil one, but there's no help in getting overworked about it. Gill's unflappable when it comes to these things, and after years of it she knows better than Julie herself what she needs. And what she needs, apparently, is bed. That's made very clear as soon as they step through the door, the very moment that shoes are unbuckled and coats shed. "Get yourself off to bed, slap, I'll be down here if you need anything" Gill murmurs, before stopping her on the bottom step. "Phone", is all she says, but Julie knows what she means. She can never remember how to do it herself, so she unlocks it and hands it over to Gill, who competently turns the brightness down, puts the night mode on and turns it to Do Not Disturb. "Text me if you need me" Gill says, and there's an weighty sincerity behind it that makes Julie feel like she might cry for a moment. Christ, she's tired. "Thanks, love" is what she goes for instead, and with one last kiss she's off to bed. Out of the office and in her pyjamas, and it's not even five thirty. Wonders never cease. 


	2. In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-sick fic smut is my brand

Gill's just out of the shower when her phone goes, and she has the water so hot it takes her a moment to catch her breath in the steam. It's not massive, their house, the one they bought fifty-fifty after Gill retired on Julie's absolute insistence, but it's perfect for the two of them. The best decision they ever made, closely followed by the choice to keep the existing family bathroom as well as the ensuite. It gives them space to shower without waking the other, without Jules getting cross when she wants to get ready and Gill's turned the bathroom into "a fucking sauna in the middle of the Amazon, Gill, _Christ_ ", and there's space for a bath which is Julie's preferred (only) form of self care. Plus, at their age, its a common enough occurence that their mid-night need for a wee happens to strike at exactly the same time, and they're too old by now to be having pelvic floor competitions. In that sense, at least. She picks up her phone and wipes the steam off the screen on her towel before heading out of the bathroom as she checks it. She can hardly breathe in here, and she doesn't want to think about the way she likes that. Not now. Julie's text. 

come here

You okay, slap? Do you want anything? X 

want kisses 

The whole exchange takes less than a minute, and now she's reassured Julie is okay, she's planning to dry off and get dressed first. She'd snuck in and got a change of clothes while Julie was sleeping, curled on her side with her fist in the duvet, pulling it right around close to her body. She'd popped them in the spare room to avoid waking Julie as she dressed. Seems Julie has other ideas. 

need kisses please xx

It's just coming up to eight, now, and a couple of hours sleep and her medication seems to have made the world of difference. It usually does, and when she can't get her home Gill's been known to sit on the floor of Julie's office, holding her close until she falls asleep, just long enough for the meds to kick in and take the edge off it. Something about the sheer relief of waking up and feeling better always seems to have Julie needy and wanting, but Gill knows it won't last if she doesn't get some food in her to stabilise her blood sugars. She probably hasn't eaten since breakfast. It's a third text that draws her attention from drying herself off and tugging on some soft joggers and a tshirt, no bra. It's her own home, after all. 

rip me. cause of death: lack of kisses. cruel.

It should be alarming, that they can joke around like that considering what they see every day. It isn't. It's comforting. "Five minutes, slap!" She calls as she heads out of the spare room and downstairs, pausing to hang her towel up in the still steamy bathroom on the way. There's a responding grunting noise from the bedroom, which Gill really shouldn't find half as endearing as she does. 

* * *

It's more like ten minutes later that Gill actually returns, though she's brought tea and food, so Jules finds she can't really be cross at her timekeeping. Gill's flushed, pink and warm and her hair's slightly damp. Gorgeous. "Gimme kiss then" Julie grumbles, and finally she gets one, a soft little peck as Gill puts tea and a plate of rice cakes and grapes down next to her on the bedside table. She can't eat properly just after a bad head, it turns her stomach, even the smell of the mug of soup Gill's got for herself makes her stomach roll until she takes a deep breath and gets a handle on it. "Sorry, slap, but m'starved - I can-" Gill offers, making to get up from where she's just laid down on the bed, but Julie shakes her head. "S'okay" is all she manages, sipping her tea cautiously and crunching through a couple of salty rice cakes until she feels them settling at the bottom of her tummy, a reassuring weight that anchors her and stops the lightheadedness. There's even two caramel ones at the bottom of the pile for pudding, bless her. "And your grapes" Gill insists when all the rice cakes are gone, putting her empty mug on the side and wiping the edges of her mouth with a tissue. Julie thinks she could easily have licked that off. She doesn't even like tomato soup, but she would've. 

"Jules, please - rice cakes aren't even a food. They're not. They've no nutritional value. Hey, _don't_ -" Julie's not ready to bicker yet, and Gill's just picked up on that, though god knows what tiny tell she'd honed in on that let her know Julie was liable to cry if she kept on. Her eyes are closed against Her Majesty's ricecake rant, so she feels rather than sees Gill move and slide back into bed, under the covers this time, sitting up against the headboard next to Julie and wrapping an arm around her naked waist. "Here" Gill murmurs, softer, and holds a grape to Julie's lips, in between little fingers. Would be rude to refuse. Eventually Gill must be satisfied that she's forced some nutrients into Julie, because the grapes stop coming, but she doesn't want Gill to move her fingers too. Her eyes are still closed, and she's tucked up against Gill, but she manages to work out where her small wrist must be and wraps her own larger hand around it, asking her to stay. She does. Julie smiles softly, Gill's two fingers against her lips, then starts to kiss them, sucking the pad of each finger between her lips, open mouthed and warm with just a hint of tongue against sensitive skin. Her tongue against Gill's fingerprints, and it feels like worship. It is worship, if Julie's being honest with herself. 

"What you doing, slap?" Gill asks quietly after a minute or so, and Julie has to open her eyes so she can roll them at her. Is it not obvious? She asks the question with a quirk of her eyebrow rather than with words, and opens her mouth proper to slip both fingers inside, as if daring Gill to question her again. It's far from the first time she's sucked Gill's fingers, she's had four of them in her mouth one particularly memorable night last week, and she knows it's Gill's absolute favourite foreplay, so clearly the question had been more "do you actually want to fuck me _now_?" She's hoping the way she slips her tongue between Gill's fingers and licks at the sensitive crease where they join is the only answer she'll need to give. 

The duvet is discarded before either one of them speaks again, Julie above Gill absolutely starkers, looking down at her little mouse all cosy in her joggers and soft tshirt. Mm. "Is this just your way of stopping me slagging off your rice cakes?" Gill asks as Julie settles with her knees either side of Gill's legs, and if she wasn't already so desperate for this she'd get up and leave Gill wanting too. "Shut. Up. About. The. Ricecakes" she warns her, punctuating each word with a kiss, starting with her lips and working her way across her jaw to the soft spot just in front of her ear. "I know they're shite, I get it, I just - like having something to do with my mouth" she explaines with just a hint of a grin, nipping at Gill's earlobe to signal that this is the last she wants to hear of it. Gill shivers, and that's _much_ better. She still feels she hasn't had quite enough kisses for her liking, so she shifts them so they're lying tangled together, side by side, and leans in again, feeling her soft lips against hers, tasting vanilla lip balm and something uniquely Gill - and mint. "Did you crunch up a Polo while I wasn't looking?" Julie asks, pulling back for just a second, too close to see her properly. "You don't like tomato soup" Gill murmurs, as if it's nothing, and then she's kissing Julie, chasing the closeness of a moment ago. Jules is only too happy to provide. 

It's been a run of quickies after work recently, and Gill deserves better, so it's soothing and deeply hot in equal measure to be able to spend a good half hour just snogging her face off. She's got Gill off like this before, kissed her again and again until she'd shoved her own hand down her knickers and been whining into Julie's mouth in two seconds flat, but that's not what she's going for tonight. "Can I-?" She asks eventually, moving her hands from the warm flushed skin of Gill's hips and tummy, helping her take her top off when she nods. Mm. No bra. It's an instinctive position they find themselves in, Gill's hands in Julie's hair, scratching gently across her scalp as Julie kisses along the soft swell of Gill's breast, nuzzling into the warm skin and the intoxicating smell of her. It's strongest here, the spot between her breasts, the first spot to get sweaty, and it's a shame she can't bury her face here at every opportunity. Her hand comes up to thumb over her nipple as she licks a stripe across the underside of her breast, and Gill huffs out a shaky breath. There we go, getting somewhere now. 

Gill's not as sensitive up top as Julie is, so a little more gentle teasing later and she moves on, not wanting to frustrate her. She presses a line of kisses down her ribcage, assessing the curve of her body, always worried that Gill's _too_ tiny, that she's missing some sign that she's not well or not eating enough. But there's a reassuring softness under her lips, just enough give before she reaches firm that she's content to push it out of her mind. Her tummy is intensely ticklish, and she'd rather avoid any flailing legs considering how closely they're wrapped up together, so she moves to the soft skin at the inside of Gills upper arm, kissing and nuzzling and then sucking a deep mark right where nobody will see. But she'll know. "Did you bother putting any knickers on, love?" She grins, looking up at Gill, who's eyes are wide and dark as she sucks in a breath. God, she's easy. Beautifully, delightfully easy. Gill shakes her head, and even after years of domestic bliss the idea of her walking around their home in these stupid old cosy joggers with no knickers on is enough to make Julie clench, press herself into Gills thigh that's somehow founds it's way between her legs. 

Its a little wriggly to get Gill naked, but they're both reluctant to unwind from each other, and they get there in the end, the joggers in question ending up abandoned on the bedroom floor. Julie simply can't hold out any longer, and she slips a gentle hand between Gill's legs to find her very wet indeed, hot and slick, just how she likes her best. "Christ, Gill" she mutters, and the angle is shit like this, but she carefully slides two fingers across Gill's clit just to see the way she shivers and moans, throaty and open and utterly gorgeous. "How'd you want it?" Julie asks quietly, not moving her hand from where it's pressed against Gill. She doesn't answer immediately, and Julie rubs her thumb over her clit to get her attention. Gill gasps and opens her eyes, focuses on her, and makes a decision. "Mouth" she mumbles, and God, Julie wants to hear her say that over and over again. 

"Can do, pet" she grins, gently encouraging Gill to lie back on the bed, starting to disentangle their legs so she can move downwards. It's Gill's hand suddenly firm on her shoulder that stops her, and she looks up from where she's level with her snatch, just about to get going, and quirks an eyebrow. "Do you mind if-" Gill starts, making some convoluted hand gesture that Julie somehow interprets to mean, "would you mind awfully if I sat on your face instead?" It's a quirk of Gill's, sometimes she finds it a bit _much_ to be splayed out and vulnerable, and she understands where she's coming from. "Course not, Gill. You've only to ask, hm?" Julie reminds her, flopping onto her back and making sure she's in a useful position against the pillows, close enough for Gill to hold onto the headboard if she needs to. Gill's thighs are slightly shaky as she gets settled, and Julie rests a hand on her hip to keep her steady as she presses her mouth up onto her. It's her favourite place to be in the world, her whole existence narrowed to the slide of Gill's cunt against her mouth, her nose buried in the soft curls of her neat little landing strip. Always prim and proper, our Gill. 

There's nothing proper about the way Julie _slurps_ as she sucks at Gill's clit, sliding her tongue across the whole length of her cunt to really rile her up before focusing in on her oversensitive clit, the surefire key to great results every time. It's always a messy business, she can feel that the bottom half of her face from chin to the tip of her nose is sticky with Gill's slick, and it's always a noisy business too, the filthy sounds of her mouth mixed in with Gill's loud moans and "fuck, slap, just there, do that again". She's always loud, Gill, and utterly beyond embarassment once she gets going, purely focused on chasing her high. She'll say and do the filthiest things, pure sinful sex on legs, and Julie relishes in bringing out this side if her. She slides both hands up and towards Gill's hips where she's bent slightly forwards to get the right angle, which means she can grab at Gill's arse and encourage her to grind against her mouth. A deep answering groan tells her she's well on the right track. Gill's riding her face with utter abandon, grinding herself down onto Julies tongue and she actually whimpers as they fall into a rhythm, a frantic push and pull that's just right, "just, more, more, _Julie_ , please, right there". Demanding cow. Her thighs are starting to shake either side of Julie's head, and she squeezes Gill's arse hard as she contemplates what more she can give, what else Gill needs to get her over the line. It's an experimental slap of Gill's left arse cheek that gives her the answer. They haven't done this in a while, but the way Gill yelps and then whimpers and grinds down even more insistently against Julie's mouth tells her she's on the right track. 

It's a moaned "fuck, slap, spank me again, fucking _hell_ , m'close" that seals the deal, and she doesn't even have to think before she's bringing her hand down hard again, using her other hand to press Gill down and keep her tight against her mouth even as she jumps slightly and _wails_. Her hips are bucking of their own accord now, and their rhythm is shot, Gill's just sliding herself across Julie's mouth as relentlessly as she possibly can, and she's definitely going to have sore thighs in the morning. The headboard is squeaking, Gill's babbling all sorts of filthy nothings, but Julie is focused solely on the task at hand. She seals her lips around Gill's clit, no mean feat considering how desperately she's moving, and sucks hard and long at just the same time as she spanks Gill one last time, and she doesn't let up as she feels Gill got to pieces above her. "Christ, Julie, I, I, _yes_ , **fuck** \- " she all but yells before she's shaking apart, moans turning into soft little whines that turn into shaky inhales as Julie loosens her hold and gently guides her through it, her tongue still moving lazily, soothingly until Gill finally lifts her hips and she gets some air.

Gill's utterly fucked out and blissful as she collapses onto the bed next to Julie, rewarding her for her efforts with a few deep kisses and her own strong orgasm that fizzes right down to her toes, almost embarassingly achieved by just a few deft, nearly-rough circles of Gill's two fingers across Julie's throbbing clit. She pants away in the crook of Gill's neck and breathes in the smell of her on the shaking inhales, coming hard with just a buck of her hips and a soft "oh" to prove it. Julie's not loud, never has been, can be quiet as anything if they need to be, but she allows Gill the satisfaction of letting at least one soft moan slip through. Eventually, slowly, they come back to their senses, like wading through knee deep toffee, warm and sticky and golden. "Cloth" Gill mumbles, making to get up, and Julie adds "and a wee" for good measure, though she stays put, her arm flung over her eyes as she catches her breath and makes sense of the world. Gill returns a minute or two later with a warm, damp flannel, moving Julie's arm so she can wipe her face, and Julie grins at her as she does so. "Made a right state of me, ey, missus?" and they both fall about laughing, naked and warm and utterly content. 


End file.
